


The More I Get of You

by Zillabird



Series: A Conflict of Interest [9]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Not Cheating, but - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillabird/pseuds/Zillabird
Summary: With Tim and Dick both out of town, Damian finds himself in desperate need for a date to the next Gotham Gala. For a price, Jason might be willing to accommodate him.Jason's own inner conflict has him torn with the new information he has about Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne, but the thing about people - even mask wearing people - is that there's more to them than meets the eye. And once you get to know them, it can be very hard not to find yourself feeling for them.





	The More I Get of You

**Author's Note:**

> This is soooo late. I don't even have an excuse. I'm just sorry. Hope this is okay.

Two tanned hands slammed down on Jason’s desk causing the detective in question to slowly raise his eyes form the files on his desk to the cool blue eyes of Damian Wayne. He set his pen down and arched an eyebrow in question. “What can I do for you today?”

“I need a favor,” Damian said.

Jason looked around the bullpen and then snapped his eyes back to Damian. His voice lowered to an almost inaudible volume. “I told Dick I wasn’t going to be doing him any _favors_. You already dragged Tim into this and while I don’t agree, it’s his choice. This choice is mine.”

Damian frowned and then sneered. “You insipid fool. Do you honestly think that we need your assistance? Father trained me in the art of investigation. I would make a better detective than even you, moron. I have no need for your help and I’m not moronic enough to come down to a police station to ask for it even if I did.”

Jason hesitated and sat back. “Then what do you need a favor for?”

“I need a date,” Damian said, spitting the words out like venom. He rolled his eyes with a skill Jason remembered having when he was that age. “Grayson has a business meeting to attend for Wayne Enterprises and Drake had a previous engagement for a friend that he is apparently too enamored with to cancel for me despite my needs being obviously more important. Since I refuse to suffer through another gala with some gold-digging harlot who attempts to accost me in an attempt to bleed us of our wealth and fortune, that leaves you.”

“I’m better than a gold-digging harlot?” Jason asked dryly. “What a compliment coming from you.”

“Of course you are not,” Damian said. “But considering that you’re already fondling Grayson every chance you get, if you are going to abscond with our inheritance than I suppose it is too late to stop you now.”

Jason leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What if I don’t want to help you?”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“I want to see it,” Jason said.

Damian stared at him for a long moment, lip curling in disgust. “Don’t you see enough of Grayson’s?”

It took Jason _way_ too long to understand what the little shit was referring to. Jason scowled. “Wait just a minute, you little pervert. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about and it’s _not_ whatever itty bitty inchworm you’ve got between your legs-“

“It seems to please Drake just fine,” Damian replied evenly.

Jason glared. “I want to see the headquarters. Or, what did Dick call it? The Cave. I want to see it.”

“Why?” Damian demanded. “I was under the impression you didn’t want to know anything. Plausible deniability.”

“I’m past plausible deniability, the moment I found out who you were ended any chance I had for that and you know it,” Jason said. “You roped me into this nonsense, and you’re damn lucky I didn’t turn on Dick. I could have had you both behind bars.”

“What does that have to do with wanting to see the Cave?” Damian questioned.

Jason shrugged. “Genuine curiosity.”

“Lie,” Damian replied.

“Maybe I just want to know where to track the two of you down if he ever crosses the line,” Jason said.

Damian’s eyes flashed with anger. “You’re not helping your case, but also a lie.”

Jason chewed on the inside of his cheek. He leaned over, opened his desk drawer, and popped a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth. “You’ve built your whole lives around this and his, and your, father. I want to understand.”

“And you think an excavated cavern beneath Gotham will help you grasp the concept of sacrifice for the greater good?” Damian asked.

Jason snorted. “When you put it that way, but that’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

Damian stood up straight again, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes searched Jason’s face before the trademark sneer took back over. “Fine. You may see it. Once. But you will accompany me to the gala _first_ and you will not wear whatever godawful monstrosity you surely have hanging in your closet. I will send our butler to you after your next shift and he will take you somewhere to get an appropriate suit.” A pause before he muttered, “I should have him do the same thing for Drake.”

“You know, we’re not your Ken dolls to dress up as you please, right?” Jason asked.

Damian’s eyes snapped down to him, in a way that made it clear Damian hadn’t really been listening. “What? What are you attempting to communicate with your inane ramblings now?”

“You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?” Jason asked. He shook his head. “Fine. I’ll go with your butler, but you’re footing the bill for whatever no doubt incredibly expensive suit I end up having to get.”

“Of course,” Damian said. He scoffed. “You wouldn’t be able to afford a _tie_ where I’ll be sending you.”

“Snob,” Jason muttered.

“Peasant,” Damian replied. He turned and walked away. “Immediately after your next shift, remember that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason muttered.

“Remember,” Damian repeated.

Jason looked up to shoo him off just in time to see him exit the bullpen.

Roy’s chair rolled over. “Did I just hear that correctly?”

“What?” Jason asked, looking back down at his file.

“Billionaire trust fund baby Damian Wayne just asked you to the annual Police Gala,” Roy said. “I didn’t realize you travelled in the same circles as Damian Wayne.”

Jason clenched his jaw, mostly just irritated with being left to make up excuses for them. “We have a… mutual friend.”

“Is this mutual friend handsome with a nice ass and a nickname that happens to be slang for the male genitalia?” Jason’s eyes flicked over to him surprised. Roy openly laughed. “Come on, man. You think I didn’t hear when Dick Grayson came to visit _my_ best friend?”

“It’s nothing,” Jason snapped. “Mind your own business, Harper.”

“You are my business,” Roy said. “What’s going on, Jason? Why are Gotham’s wealthiest bachelors visiting you at work?”

Jason rubbed his temples. “Don’t worry about it, Roy.”

Roy lifted his hands up. “Alright. For now.”

Of course. Roy would never drop this completely, just wait until Jason was too drunk to keep his mouth shut. He’d never reveal their secret – as much as he hated it, they’d grown on him. Both of them, and Tim had always been his… friend. “Thanks.”

“Are you gonna sleep with him?” Roy asked, abruptly.

“Which one?” Jason asked, frowning.

Roy arched an eyebrow. “If you have to ask, I have to wonder. Kind of kinky, having it hard for both of them.”

Jason scowled and smacked Roy in the face with the file.

~~~

“Detective Todd?”

Jason looked up from his phone to where a sharply dressed man stood beside a sleek black car. He was an older gentleman and his words were lilted with a posh British accent. Jason slowed down but didn’t stop walking, right hand dropping to hang beside his holster. “Who’s asking?”

“Master Damian informed me that you would be expecting me?” the man said. “The name is Alfred Pennyworth, sir. I was instructed to aid you in purchasing appropriate wear for the gala you have been invited to.”

Jason’s eyes widened and he snapped his hand back up from his gun. “Oh! That’s right. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Damian told me you’d be coming but it was a rough day at work and it just slipped my mind. Yeah. Damn it.”

Alfred stared at him coolly. “Indeed. You have quite the mouth on you, Detective.”

Jason snorted. “I grew up on Gotham’s streets, man. I’m sure you’re used to silver spoon brats but this is how the rest of the world speaks.”

“Cursing is a choice,” Alfred said. “And it’s a poor one. Hooligans curse.”

“Well, Alfie, I guess I’m a hooligan,” Jason said.

“Alfie?” the man asked, a note of exasperation in his tone.

“It’ll grow on you,” Jason vowed.

The seats were leather which seemed like an ill-advised choice considering how hot a Gotham summer could get. But then Jason remembered that Dick and Damian had more money than God and that they probably had plenty of people like Alfred here to start up the car and waste gas to air condition it before even getting in.

“There are refreshments in the fridge, sir, and you can choose whatever music you’d like,” Alfred said. He motioned to a touch screen roughly tablet sized. Jason ignored the drinks after a glance, wine and champagne were really not much to Jason’s taste, and looked over the screen instead. There was a button for playlists and Jason pressed it. The most recently played was D. Wayne, which made sense Jason supposed since Dick was currently out of town. The one after that was titled Songs We Can Agree On. It contained, when Jason tapped on it, a total of three songs of which Britney Spears’ Circus was most often played. Jason pictured Damian listening to Circus and got as far as a toothy smile before going back to the list. He tapped Dick’s playlist – Dick Grayson Tunes to Die By – and the sounds of the Beatles played over the speakers.

_♪Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo. Here comes the sun, and I say it’s all right. Little darling…♪_

It was at odds with the version of Dick that Jason chased over rooftops, except that maybe it wasn’t at all. If he thought back to white smiles from the shadows and whispered quips in his ears and the sound of laughter at Dick flitted away over the spaces between rooftops – maybe it wasn’t so at odds at all.

There was another playlist below that simply titled, Stop Renaming My Playlist Damian. Jason’s lips tugged up at that.

The bottom playlist hadn’t been used in a long while, and Jason instantly understood when he read the title. Much like Damian’s, it was only titled B. Wayne. Perhaps he’d simply spent too long as a detective, but before he could think it through he pressed play.

♪ _There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea, and you became the light on the dark side of me. Love remains a drug that’s the high and not the pill, but did you know that when it snows my eyes become large and the light that you shine can’t be seen.♪_

Jason wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but he knew it hadn’t been this. Maybe classical music but he found himself kind of smirking at the man Bruce Wayne must have been. Rich playboy during the day, hard as nails vigilante during the night, and listening to Seal in the car rides between.

Some nineties hit that must have struck the man at the right moment. Enough so that he’d added it to this playlist in the car.

♪ _Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the gray.♪_

By the time the car had come to a stop, Jason had spent most of the ride listening to Bruce Wayne’s playlist and the man didn’t have bad taste in music actually. There _was_ some classical in there, but also some classic rock and some jazz and a beautiful opera. He car turned off and Jason quickly hit the buttons to shut off the music just as Alfred opened the door for him.

Jason climbed out and, with one glance at the man and his poorly hidden red rimmed eyes, felt like shit. “I’m… sorry. That really wasn’t my place and-“

“It’s quite fine,” Alfred said. “It’s been a… a bloody long time since I listened to that, young man. The boys are still too raw to acknowledge it, but we leave it there for when they’re ready.”

“He had good taste in music.” Jason nearly bent over just so he could more easily shove his foot in his mouth. “Damn, that sounded less dumb in my head.”

Alfred’s lips quirked, but he said nothing more.”I believe it is time for us to begin searching for your suit, no?”

Jason appreciated the out.

~~~

“I suppose you look acceptable,” Damian said, upon seeing Jason in the suit for the first time.

Jason held his arms out and smirked. “You lying sack of shit. I look _great_.”

Damian couldn’t actually argue that point, as much as he’d like to. Jason looked like sin in a suit, as if Damian didn’t have enough problems between Grayson and his new unacceptable _slight_ growing fondness for Drake. “You can take the man out of Crime Alley but you can’t take the Crime Alley out of the man.”

“You wound,” Jason said, putting his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Fortunately, my pride can take it. I know I look hot.”

Damian walked forward and grabbed the edges of his bow tie to straighten it. “Whatever you want to believe, Todd.” He stepped back. “I suppose you’ll do. Come along.”

Todd crossed his arms over his chest, not moving. Damian got as far as the door before he realized Todd wasn’t following him as ordered. “Todd, which part of come along didn’t you understand?”

“If this is how you’re going to be treating me all night I will take my stupidly expensive suit and go home,” Todd said. “I am not some paid escort you can boss around.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “How do you wish to be treated?”

“Like a date,” Jason said. “Pretend you actually want me to be here.”

Damian didn’t have the patience for this. “I don’t know if my acting skills are that good.”

“Rude,” Jason pointed out. “And also, _lie_.”

Damian didn’t appreciate being called out. “Fine.” He forced a smile to his face. “Follow, _please_.”

“Christ, being charming is really difficult for you, isn’t it?” Jason asked, finally following him.

“I was raised to be a killer,” Damian said bluntly. “If you wish for someone to charm you, consider Grayson as he was raised to be a performer.”

Jason frowned. “I thought Batman didn’t kill.”

Damian looked around and then hissed, “Keep your voice down, Todd. And he didn’t. My Father was a hero. He never took a life.”

“Then-“

“It’s none of your business,” Damian snapped. “Now appear glad to be here.”

Fortunately, Jason was a much better actor than Damian was.

The gala was everything Jason expected it to be, which wasn’t exactly a good thing. The classical music playing was okay, he supposed, but not really to Jason’s tastes in such large doses. He had a few glasses of champagne that Damian _swore_ was expensive though Jason couldn’t honestly tell the difference but not enough to really have some fun, not without making an ass of himself. Damian had asked him to go and Jason wouldn’t screw Damian over by turning into a drunk idiot at a classy party.

He’d turn into a drunk idiot _after_ the classy party, where he couldn’t get Damian’s face plastered over the front page.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?” Jason asked him, eventually.

Damian glanced at him and his lip curled. “ _Why?_ ”

“Because you invited me to a gala which is basically a ball and at balls, people dance,” Jason said, motioning to the couples spinning on the dance floor in their expensive gowns.

“I do not dance,” Damian muttered.

“You mean, you don’t know _how_ to dance,” Jason corrected.

“I do too,” Damian argued. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Grayson taught me several years ago so I would feel comfortable at these events.”

Jason arched an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you dance?”

“I do not like being _viewed_ ,” Damian growled. He eyed the reporters and paparazzi on the edges of the ballroom. “I am not an exhibit.”

Jason’s expression actually softened. Maybe because he’d met them first as vigilantes, it was hard to remember that they were people too. Humans with lives that didn’t begin and end when they wore a mask. They had playlists and families and fears of being judged by the hoard of people with access to their lives.

“Stay here,” Jason said.

Damian sneered. “I do not take orders from you, Todd.”

“Shut up and stay here,” Jason said. “ _Please_.”

Damian didn’t look impressed but he rolled his eyes and settled into place. When Jason came back, he took Damian’s hand. “Come on, we’re dancing.”

“I just told you I didn’t like being viewed,” Damian snapped.

Jason didn’t let go of his hand. “Look, I get it. Maybe not entirely because I sure as shit have never been someone reporters followed around and badgered all day but I understand fear and I know that you can’t let it control your life. So come out and dance with me.”

Damian glanced at the reporters again.

“What would Dickie boy say?” Jason asked.

Damian’s eyes snapped over to him. The young man’s shoulders stiffened and he settled against Jason, hands going to the appropriate places for the male party and leaving Jason to the traditionally female stance. “I don’t follow.”

“Whatever,” Jason said.

The classical music drifted off and the cellist set his cello to the side to pick up

♪ _There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea, and you became the light on the dark side of me.♪_

Damian’s eyes narrowed at the song. “Pennyworth told me you played his playlist. No one’s touched it since he died.”

“I apologized to him,” Jason said. “It wasn’t my place to-“

“It’s fine,” Damian cut him off. He cleared his throat. “Is something about this song supposed to make me feel better?”

It was kind of a poor choice of song, wasn’t it? Damian’s late father’s favorite song. “I guess I… I’m-“

“He would have despised you,” Damian muttered. “As much as he liked you.”

Jason didn’t speak, just let Damian twirl them around the dance floor and talk as much as he was ready to.

“He didn’t work well with law enforcement mostly,” Damian said. “But he would have respected you.”

“Sounds like a complicated man,” Jason said.

Damian nodded. “He was.” A moment, the music swelling, and then he said, “Thank you.”

“For coming? Don’t worry about it, Damian,” Jason said.

Damian shook his head. “For listening to it.”

Jason fell silent at that.

The song ended and the orchestra received a round of applause. Jason’s eyes went to the orchestra member by the speaker system he’d managed to bribe into doing him a favor. The man gave him a thumbs up.

“Now you have to promise to forgive me,” Jason said.

“For?” Damian asked.

The pop song instrumentals played over the speaker and Damian’s expression soured. “What is this?”

♪ _There’s only two types of people in the world-♪_

“You know exactly what this is,” Jason said, smirking. Beneath his expression, however, he worried that maybe he’d taken it too far.

Damian’s expression soured even further and then, to Jason’s utter amazement, his lips twitched. “I hate you so much.”

Jason’s grin grew genuine. “No you don’t.”

“This is a classical gala,” Damian said, smiling despite himself.

“It needed a little bit of something to spice it up,” Jason said.

“Grayson will be horrified,” Damian muttered.

“Dick will congratulate me,” Jason corrected.

“ _I_ am horrified,” Damian said, but he was still smiling so Jason supposed that was a win.

When the guests had all left, Damian led Jason down the hallway and stopped them in front of a grandfather clock. “Tonight was…tolerable, I suppose.”

“You had a blast,” Jason said, grinning and sliding his hands into his pants pockets.

“Don’t push it, Todd,” Damian said. “There are worse people I could have asked. That is all you get.”

Jason sighed but just motioned for him to go on. Damian looked over to the clock and quickly fiddled with the hands before a set of stairs was revealed. “Your prize.”

Jason glanced down the stairs, eyes widening as he realized what Damian was showing him. “You sure?”

“We had a deal,” Damian said.

“Yeah, but…” Jason trailed off. He walked down the stairs and then came to a stop midway down as he realized the enormity of the cavern before him. A football field, easily, with light systems set up and what Jason was pretty sure was a temperature control system since it wasn’t nearly as cold as it should have been. “Damn.”

“It’s very impressive, isn’t it,” Damian said.

“You can say that again,” Jason said.

Damian walked down the stairs, listening to Jason’s footsteps following him. “You’re one of very few people to ever see it, and you wouldn’t have if Grayson didn’t trust you the way he did.” He was quiet. “I trust Grayson, and he trusts you.”

“As long as you two follow the rules, there’s never going to be a reason for me to tell anyone,” Jason said. “I swear that.”

Damian nodded.

Jason’s eyes went to the cases, costumes inside them. The Bat, unused for months now, and then Nightwing and Robin. An older looking version of Robin with- “Underwear?”

Damian’s nose wrinkled. “I try not to think on Grayson’s fashion decisions.”

Jason shook his head and spun around looking it all over. “This is incredible.”

“Indeed,” Damian said.

Jason turned to face him, Damian looking every bit as impressive as he could even in a ruffled suit and a loosened tie with the beginnings of circles under his eyes. And for some godawful, stupid as fuck reason… Jason leaned forward and wrapped his hand around the back of Damian’s head to pull him forward.

Even more surprising, Damian kissed back.

It was nothing like their shared kiss on the rooftop which, while enjoyable, had been playful on Jason’s end and confused on Damian’s. This one was serious and probing and Jason pulled away out of breath.

Damian put the back of his hand against his lips, silent.

Jason stepped back. “I’m-“

“Grayson’s,” Damian muttered.

Jason hesitated. Dick had told him to let Damian think Dick and he were dating, to make Damian believe he was invested. “I’m…”

“We won’t need to discuss it again,” Damian said. He dropped his hand and motioned with his chin for the stairs. “We should go.”

Jason sighed, watching Damian walk back up the stairs and then following after him to the first floor of the Manor once more.


End file.
